


Stolen Moments

by Inell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Erotica, F/M, Fluff, Heterosexual Sex, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-11
Updated: 2006-08-11
Packaged: 2018-10-26 17:28:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10791300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: Broken rules and stolen moments are all they can have for now.





	Stolen Moments

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: Response to [](http://community.livejournal.com/erotic_elves/profile)[**erotic_elves**](http://community.livejournal.com/erotic_elves/)' June Challenge: School’s Out for Summer and [](http://community.livejournal.com/books_freckles/profile)[](http://community.livejournal.com/books_freckles/)**books_freckles** Weekly Challenge #3: A first kiss.  


* * *

Hermione Granger had always respected rules. She appreciated their purpose, had usually lived her life around following them perfectly, and never broke them, though she had bent several to help Harry during the past seven years. During her time at Hogwarts, she had acquired a reputation for being a stickler to following the rules and ensuring her fellow students obeyed them for their own safety or protection. She had been made a Prefect and was now Head Girl partially because she never swayed from her desire to learn and score high in all her classes as well as her wishes to follow the rules exactly and to succeed at being the finest student that she could be during her time at school.

Rules were not made to be broken. She knew this, had no doubts as to the validity of that statement, and took great pains to never actually break the rules even for Harry, though she had become a bit of a master at bending them every way possible to help her friends when needed. She had great respect for the rules, had professors who praised her for her ability to follow them and make certain her classmates obeyed them, and, for the past five months, she had been breaking one of the most important rules at Hogwarts.

At first, she had tried to convince herself that she was simply bending the rule. It was a rule she understood, that she supported, that she knew was quite important, which made it even worse, in a way, that she was willingly and eagerly breaking it every chance she got since the winter hols. Hermione could logically argue that the rule was meant for younger students, that it did not apply to her because she was over eighteen and an adult, but that would be hypocritical because she knew it applied to every student at Hogwarts.

The very fact that she was breaking it put her entire future at risk if she were completely honest. If it was discovered, she would be expelled and sent home. Rumors and gossip would follow her everywhere. She would have difficultly finding a position anywhere if she could not receive her NEWTs scores and would possibly have to leave the Wizarding world completely. Even knowing this, realizing the risks and being completely aware of just how dangerous breaking this rule was not only to her but to others, did not deter her from making the same choice every time.

She had never intended for this to happen. Back in September, her entire focus was on her last year at Hogwarts, helping Harry adjust to life after Voldemort’s final defeat over the summer, balancing Head Girl duties and preparing for NEWTs and maintaining top marks in her classes. The very idea of being infatuated with _anyone_ had never once crossed her mind. While she liked boys just fine, her priorities were school, her future, Harry and Ron. She didn’t date, she didn’t flirt, she didn’t simper and bat her eyelashes and snog in dark corners. She had no use for such behavior when the time could be spent studying or preparing for a future outside of Hogwarts. Besides, none of the boys in her year interested her at all so it was a moot point.

It had happened gradually. She knew Charlie Weasley, of course, having met him briefly a few times in the past. But he was the one Weasley she rarely gave much thought to because he was off in Romania with his dragons and she hadn’t spent any time around him beyond those few meetings. He’d struck her as being typically Weasley: kind, caring, bright, loyal, and brave. He had a dangerous career, liked physical activity more than mental, was the shortest of the Weasley boys, which was still a bit taller than her, and had broad shoulders and muscular arms that she assumed he got from his work and possibly play. He was quieter than his brothers but vocal and opinionated, a bit of a peacekeeper and seemed to fulfill the role of nurturer in his fondness for taking care of creatures and his family. She’d liked him, respected him, and given him little more thought beyond being Ron’s older brother.

It was only after he joined the staff at Hogwarts as the Care of Magical Creatures professor, filling the position after an injured Hagrid was forced to take a year off to recuperate from the War, that she’d begun to notice him as more than Ron’s brother. She’d stupidly allowed herself to develop a crush on a professor, something that annoyed and frustrated her because it was such typical girly behavior that she usually considered somewhat beneath her even if she’d never actually say such a thing aloud. Eighteen year-old girls did not get crushes on their professors regardless of ginger hair, glimpses of ink colored tattoos on freckled skin, wide smiles that lit up handsome faces and made them even more appealing, and large hands that caused one’s thoughts to run to how said hands would feel on one’s bare skin.

She had managed to convince herself that it was a ridiculous, latent childish infatuation stemming from the fact that she had never really had an opportunity to stop working and helping Harry long enough to indulge in such expected frivolous behavior while in her early teens. Then she had spent the winter holidays with the Weasleys and everything had changed. Away from Hogwarts, Charlie was even more attractive, talking with her regarding his opinions about the Ministries treatment of magical creatures, a subject in which they were both extremely passionate, and showing himself to be even more worthy of her infatuation if not something more.

It had started with a kiss. He’d been flirting, something he’d always done in an attempt to make her blush, she believed, and she’d looked up and something had changed in the air. She couldn’t even describe it now but there had been a shift, a spark, an awareness that caused his teasing smile to fade and their lips to gravitate towards each other. A brushing of lips, pulling back and staring at each other, both surprised and stammering before words were forgotten and they’d been kissing again.

They knew it was wrong, knew they were breaking the most cardinal of rules for professors: A professor will not have sexual relations with a student under any circumstances. He would be fired if their relationship was discovered. She was of age so there would be no other consequence in that regard, but being let go from a teaching position for having relations with a student would follow him everywhere, and he would probably never be able to find a job with such a thing on his record.

It was far too dangerous for them to continue. That was what they had decided after two weeks of stolen kisses, of snogging in dark corners, of caresses that had moved from being above clothing to bare skin against skin. She would be out of school in a little over five months, after all. They could wait, be patient, and then begin a real relationship once she was finished with Hogwarts. They’d both been very adult during their discussion, knowing the consequences of such an affair and not wanting to risk their futures when it was such a short time to wait.

One week. It had only taken one week for their eyes to meet during supper one evening; the night ending with her pressed against the stone wall on the fourth floor with his hand in her knickers and her cry of release caught by his lips. In the months since, they met whenever possible, stolen moments of kissing and caressing, meeting in Hogsmeade and enjoying a room together before they had to go back to the charade of simply being a teacher and student. Luckily, he was not her professor so they weren’t forced to pretend and lie during classes each week, but sneaking around and making excuses and having to act as if he was no more than a casual friend she’d made due to her friendship with Ron had already grown tiresome.

There were still three weeks before school ended for them both. Hagrid was recovered and would be coming back to work the following year. Charlie was returning to Romania as well as finishing talks to work with the Ministry in efforts to get more funding and focus on helping instead of hindering the creatures they were supposed to be protecting. She was uncertain whether she would accept a research position for a private company that had expressed some interest in obtaining her services or possibly joining the Ministry in a capacity to assist with their plans to evaluate and change the Department of Magical Creatures, a position she‘d been considering since sixth year even before becoming involved with Charlie.

Three weeks. The thrill of the forbidden had quickly gone away, leaving them both rather frustrated that they couldn’t be together openly. Stolen moments were better than nothing, true, but she couldn’t wait until school was over and they no longer had to hide. She had no idea where things might lead once they were free to be together. She was too young to be thinking about a serious relationship and wanted to focus on whatever career she chose for several years before she ever even considered anything like marriage. They both acknowledged that it was love, thought it could possibly be something meaningful in a few years when they were both older and wanted to settle down, but, at the moment, were content with being friends and lovers until they were ready for more.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” a husky voice spoke from behind her. “I had to help a couple of the first year Gryffindors with the lesson. Have you been waiting long?”

Hermione was pulled from her thoughts by his voice in her ear. Lips curving into a small smile, she turned to face him, brushing a kiss against his jaw. “No, not long.” Her fingers pushed ginger fringe from his forehead as she said, “I’ve got about an hour until I have to meet Ernie for a Head meeting.”

“Hmm…an hour, huh?” Charlie grinned, pulling her closer, his hands moving down her back to caress her arse. “Whatever shall we do with an entire hour, love?”

“I’m certain we can think of something, Professor,” she told him primly before drawing his full bottom lip into her mouth.

“God, Hermione. I’ve missed you,” he muttered before kissing her thoroughly, his body pressing hers against the wall.

It had been nearly a week since they’d been able to find an excuse to get away to be together, the end of the term meaning more work for both of them and fewer opportunities for a stolen moment here and there. Her hand moved against the front of his trousers, feeling his erection growing as she touched him through the material. Her body responded, knickers growing damp as arousal began to spread throughout her body.

“Need to be inside you, love,” he murmured against her lips, large hands moving beneath her robe and skirt, pushing her skirt around her waist. She could feel the rough skin of his palm against her stomach as he moved his fingers into her knickers. Three swipes of his index finger against her clit had her biting her lip to keep from moaning too loudly.

“Yes, Charlie,” she said softly, brushing wet kisses along his neck and collarbone. “I need you inside me, need to feel you.”

They were on the fifth floor, a deserted room thick with dust and cobwebs, cold and musty. There was barely enough light from outside to cast shadows on their faces, neither having time to completely undress or spend hours exploring, tasting, and loving the way they wanted. Their eyes met and she sighed, seeing the same frustration and unhappiness she knew must be mirrored in her own eyes.

“Just three more weeks, Charlie.” The words were whispered but had the desired effect. He closed his eyes and, when he opened them, there was no more sadness and regret at only being able to give her these stolen moments of happiness when he thought she deserved far more.

He didn’t say anything, simply kissed her as he shoved her knickers to the side, his fingers moving inside her wetness, getting her ready. She missed his voice during these times. He was so vocal when he was loving her, telling her what he wanted, what he planned to do, saying the filthiest, most vulgar things that never failed to arouse her, and saying the sweetest and most wonderful things that never failed to make her feel wanted and desired.

She’d tried talking like that for him, but she stammered and blushed every time she said things like that. She could think them, had the most wicked fantasies involving the redhead currently thrusting two fingers inside her wet cunt, but thinking the naughty words and thoughts was different from actually saying them. He never asked her to say such things, but she knew he got as aroused as she did when she heard him saying them so she tried during those afternoons in Hogsmeade when they had time to actually explore and didn’t have to rush and whisper and fear being caught.

Hermione held his shoulders as he removed his wet fingers from her and fumbled with the zip of his trousers. A soft gasp escaped her lips as he thrust into her, her back forced hard against the wall, her face buried against his neck and shoulder to muffle her moan of pleasure and cry of frustration. She wanted so much more than stolen moments and shagging against hard stone walls and having to bite her lip until it bled because she couldn’t freely express the pleasure she felt every time he touched her.

The elastic in her knickers was rubbing her skin raw every time he pushed inside her and moved against it. She was tempted to not wear her knickers when she was planning to meet him but it felt dirty and cheap to her if she was bare beneath her skirt; like they were having some filthy shag instead of making love. Because that’s what it was between them, making love. It didn’t matter if this was a drafty, dusty, empty classroom in a part of the castle no one visited anymore and she was up against a wall with cold stone rubbing places on the fabric of her robe and her knickers pushed to the side because they didn’t have time to undress properly and his trousers were bunched around his knees as he moved in and out, going deeper and deeper with every shove forward.

This wasn’t just fucking, wasn’t something shameful or disgusting. This was a consensual act between two adults, a show of love and desire, and she shouldn’t have to feel degraded and ashamed of sharing herself, mind, body, and heart, with the man she knew she loved. Every time, they said it would be the last until they no longer had to worry about that rule and risking discovery. But their resolve never lasted long because this was all they could have for now and it had to be enough. He hated having to take her like this. It was arousing and erotic when it was spontaneous, desire overwhelming them and urgent shagging against a wall because they just had to be together, but when it was all they could have save for a few wonderful afternoons in Hogsmeade, it quickly lost it‘s erotic appeal.

They’d found it exciting at first. Sneaking around and shagging and having a secret. That hadn’t lasted long. It was still wonderful, being with him like this, the sex beyond anything she’d really imagined. Their first time had been a bit awkward because she was nervous and insecure but it had been far less painful than she’d expected and he’d licked her after he’d come to make sure she came her first time. She loved feeling him inside her, even if it was rushed, but she was ready to not have to lie and break rules and sneak around to spend time with him or have sex with him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered in her ear, the hand holding her arse squeezing lightly as his other hand moved beneath her blouse, shoving the bra up so he could caress her breasts. “So brilliant and sexy and I can’t believe you chose me, love. Hate needing you so much that I’m weak, that I can’t wait until it would be good for both of us to be together without hiding, that I’m not strong and patient.”

“Shh,” she said against his ear, forgetting everything and focusing on the only thing that really mattered, them. “If you’re weak then so am I because I can’t stay away, Charlie. I love being with you, sharing these moments with you, and I hate the sneaking around and lying and breaking rules but it’s worth all that, you’re worth it, _we’re_ worth it.”

“Gonna make it up to you, love,” he promised in a soft rasp against her neck. _When we’re away from this place and that stupid rule_ was unspoken but it lingered in the air around his promise, making her hold him tighter as she began to rock against him.

His thumb and forefinger twisted her nipple with just enough pressure to make her moan against his shoulder, her body flushed and sweaty beneath her clothes as they moved together. Her breath came in soft pants, his breath warm against her neck, both trying to touch what little bare skin was available. He shifted her position, going deeper, entering her with more force. She whimpered against his neck, her body meeting his forceful penetration, accepting his frustration and anger and unhappiness about their situation as she bit his neck, sucking and licking, her blunt fingernails digging into the back of his neck and shoulder as she let him know of her own frustration and anger over not being able to openly love him yet.

He thrust inside her a dozen times in the new position before his body stiffened. She heard the low growl that usually proceeded his release, then felt him spilling inside her. He kept moving, changing his angle so he could rub against her in all the right places, whispering all the things he wanted to do to her once they were away from rules and Hogwarts. His hand left her breast, shoving her skirt higher around her waist before moving between her legs to where they were joined. His thumb began to rub circles against her clit as he urged her to come for him. It wasn’t long before her body tensed, her orgasm making her grip his shoulders tighter as she found release, moaning his name against the scratchy material of his robe as she came.

Afterwards, he kissed her, soft and gentle, the knuckles of his hand tenderly moving along her cheek as she kissed him back. Reluctantly, she ended the kiss first, resting her forehead against his and sighing softly. They remained like that for a few moments, simply breathing and touching, before she kissed him once more. Unwrapping her legs from his waist, she removed a tissue from the pocket of her robe, wiping herself clean before performing a cleaning charm that never quite removes all the evidence of their shag.

Once she straightened her knickers back into place and pulled her bra back down over her breasts, she smoothed her skirt and tucked her shirt back in, trying to focus on the actions that have become routine since the new year. When she was done, she looked at him, brown eyes meeting green, and she sighed softly, moving into his arms and returning his hug, feeling his lips against her neck before he whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” It’s all she says this time, all he says, both knowing there are only three weeks left before they can really be together. She decides to simply enjoy holding him for a few more brief moments and not waste time saying she can’t keep sneaking around like it’s dirty and shameful because she knows that next time he has a free class and she can disappear for half an hour to ‘study’ they’ll once again be pressed against a wall, enjoying whatever stolen moments they can find before they no longer have to worry about being together and being in love.

The End


End file.
